


A Sister in the Shadows

by Cypher_DS



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Characters and pairings to be added as they appear, Coming Out, Deal with a Devil, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Heartbreak, One-Sided Attraction, Spoilers, Temptation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypher_DS/pseuds/Cypher_DS
Summary: Makoto confronts her sister's darker half and finds a family far more welcoming than any in reality. Can the Queen bring Sae's shadow into the light? A dark gamble for Makoto's soul begins.
Relationships: Niijima Makoto/Togo Hifumi, Persona 5 Protagonist/Takamaki Ann
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	1. Shadow and the Rebel Rider

**Friday, October 28 - Evening**

Sae Niijima's penthouse office is far too high for her to notice but a motorcycle has just rammed through the front doors of her casino.

Twenty stories below, Sae's guests are screaming and her security is panicking as a masked rider rips the front lobby to shreds. Up on the manager's floor, Sae sips whiskey behind a mahogany desk as she studies her profit ledgers, a black widow resting at the center of a golden web. She's in her element, consumed by the single-minded pursuit of victory.

 _Numbers are up this month._ Always a steady stream of idiots who think they have what it takes to win. Sae is more than happy to teach them otherwise.

Twenty stories down, a masked shadow cowers behind an overturned blackjack table, gibbering into its walkie-talkie. "Thieves! It's the Phantom Thieves! Someone call the- AAH!"

"Ahh," Sae echoes, a gentler, cat-like purr compared to the howl of her now-flattened minion. She's reading over her letters, grinning a bloodthirsty, black grin as she entertains the hastily written appeals of her guests: _please Miss Niijima, another line of credit! Onegai, Niijima-sama, another extension on the debt! Another chance to gamble and win!_

A smirk. _Go ahead. Drown yourself deeper and deeper in debt. We both know the only real winner is the house._

"Elevator! Elevator!" another shadow shrieks, pinned between the glass lift and a massive, black wheel grinding away at its torso. "Lock down the elevat-"

"Huh?"

Sae frowns as her hundred-piece diamond chandelier clinks and sways. _Whatever, must be the bass from the band we booked._ But then a second ripple runs through her decanter of imported whiskey. Now the tremors are strong enough to make the peacock feather quill in her hand jerk across the cheque she's writing (From: Golden Star Casino Inc., To: Ms. Sae Niijima, General Manager, Re: Because You're a Winner, Girl!) marring a row of six perfect zeros with an inky slash.

Sae raises her head in a vicious scowl. Stabbing the speed-dial on her office phone, she pages her chief of staff. "Bob, what the hell's going on down there?"

* * *

"What do you mean a god-damn motorcycle just rammed through the front doors?"

Sae's paces up and down her office, a bundle of nerves and fury. Her stilettos stab the floor like the barbed legs of a bloodthirsty spider. Security footage from the ground floor displays a montage of shredded carpets, smashed glass and toppled decor, to say nothing of the shrieking mob of guests pouring out the emergency exits.

Arms folded behind his back, Bob does his best to remain inconspicuous and out of fist-striking range. A masked shadow in black coattails and prim white gloves, Bob is the only one of her hunchbacked stooges who can stand upright and show a little pride in his work. 

"A rather peculiar modus operandi for a Phantom Thief," Bob drones in his posh British accent. 

"It's a diversion," Sae tells herself between swigs of whiskey. A cocky bluff to draw her attention from the extra cards being shuffled into the deck. "Radio all personnel to reinforce the back hallways and side entrances. I'm not letting a single one of those Phantom rats sneak into my casino!"

"At once, madam."

Now that the black rider's chewed through her lobby and reduced her guests to a shrieking mob, the damn brat's decided to redecorate the front walkway, revving her bike up and down the strip and swinging a metal pipe through her flower vases and decor. Teeth clenched, Sae storms out to her penthouse balcony to survey the phantom speck that dares tarnish her neon kingdom. 

Among the gold and glamour of her casino, the black rider is gritty filth. A grizzled bandit who's exploded out of an apocalyptic wasteland, all leather armor and spiked pauldrons with a ragged cape whipping through the wind. Bob hands her a pair of binoculars and Sae zooms in on that metal-plated face, red eyes burning with fury.

"Now there's a mug to give you goosebumps." She wonders why her shadowy goons can't muster up that sort of menace from their bargain bin Halloween masks.

"Madam, security has retaken the front doors. Shall I send a squad to deal with her?"

"You damn well better! That brat's keeping everyone from getting in!" Any time a VIP limo pulls up to the receiving roundabout, the rider revs her engine in warning. For those who can't take the hint, she unholsters the six-shooter on her hip and fires into the air. The drivers all hit the gas, squealing their tires back onto the main road.

_God dammit, how am I supposed to win their money if nobody can get in and spend it?_

Behind and to her side, Bob watches her throttle the balcony railing in lieu of a throat and doublechecks his two meters of distance. "Shall I inform the police, madam?"

"Right, because that's exactly the kind of headline those press vultures love!" _Lady Casino Boss Calls for PoliceMEN to Rescue Her Sorry Ass._ That was the loser's headline to trump all loser headlines! 

_I need a winning play..._

Sae chews her lip. Regular grunts aren't doing the trick. When the rider can’t be satisfied simply steamrolling her politely dressed shadows into ichor and roadkill, she backflips off her bike and uses her fists to beat the tar out of the masked blackjack dealers. Sae can't help but raise an eye at those crisp, disciplined throws and strikes. _Someone's practiced her aikido_. 

Despite all odds, one of her goons actually manages to smash a wine bottle across the rider's shoulders. There's a lull in the battle as the thief freezes.

"RAAH!"

Then the black rider grips the lucky stooge by the mask and flips him into the ground hard enough to leave an impact crater. Against all better judgement, Sae whistles. "Girl, I need to put you on my security detail."

Amusements aside, it's time to reshuffle the deck. "Bob, call the security room. Find a window with a clear shot. Tell 'em to bring up Little Nellie."

* * *

'Little Nellie' is the code name her teams use over comms to pull the blinds over any wire-tapping, do-gooder cops. Sae's bent and twisted plenty of rules to keep her casino winning but even the dirtiest of pigs wouldn't hesitate to call her in if they learned her black market dealings had earned her a military grade sniper rifle.

Bob pours her a whiskey neat as Sae sits on the balcony railing, relishing the ongoing fight. Barbaric fashion sense aside, the black rider's an entertaining fighter. The angry snarl as her spiked knuckles uppercut the shadows into black ribbons? _Oh, I'd ante up another two dozen idiots to enjoy that twisted lip._

Maybe she'll keep the head, display it on a shelf.

Still, like all of Sae's casino guests, once they've had their fun and racked up their chips, it's time to pull out the rug. The house always wins.

Security radios in. Their man is in place. Little Nellie's all lined up. Orders, madam?

"Take the shot."

Nellie's bullet _zings_ through the cold night air, loud enough for Sae to hear at the top of the world, harsh enough that the black rider's eyes open in alarm. 

And then the darndest thing. The rider's silver bike - without anyone to steer it, without anyone to direct it - launches up on its hind wheel and throws itself in the bullet's path. Sparks explode and the rider screams as the impact throws her bike across the walk. "Johanna!"

Sae spews her drink, eyes widening like the bullet hit her. "What?"

What happens next makes her jaw hang loose.

All over the motorcycle, panels flip open, compartments unfold and the damn bike stands up on two robotic legs, assuming a three meter tall human shape. The machine points a clawed hand at Sae's sniper nest, blasting it with a white-hot laser that sends the perched shadow screaming to his doom.

Sae looks from the flaming corpse to the upright machine. "Bob, what the hell was that?"

Bob steps forward and glances over the railing. "Madam, I believe that was a Transformer."

Whiskey sloshes over the shadow's mask for his smart remark. "That's... cheating! She's a god-damn, no good, cheating little -!"

"Madam? You may wish to take another look..."

Like a black vulture, Sae pounces on the railing. With the last of her goons dispatched, it's the black rider's turn to up the ante. When she and her little cyberbike clomp toward the parking lot, Sae spits up curses like coins from a faulty slot machine.

"No. No, no, no, no-"

 _Batoom!_ Explosive heat slams the penthouse balcony as one luxury car after the other launches into the air on a miniature mushroom cloud. 

"Dammit, no!" Sae's mind is clawing through cost-analysis spreadsheets, tallying the insurance payouts and apology packages she'll need to dole out to her guests. One hundred thousand, two hundred thousand. Every sky-catapulted car is another six digits off her profit ledger!

The black rider joins in on the destruction, charging up her fists with a nuclear glow. While her damn cycle-tron is satisfied with ripping up the VIP stalls, the phantom rat stalks towards the section for staff parking.

Visored red eyes target a pristine, silver Aston Martin One-77. Sae pales.

"No. No, no, no, you wouldn't -"

_Batoom!_

The explosion's so fierce that a spinning tail pipe twirls through the stratosphere, flying up to the penthouse suite and embedding itself in Sae's balcony. Any hope for a missed target is shattered when Sae blinks open her eyes and sees the flaming wreckage of a bumper and license plate reading FRN SQR.

"You brat, that was my car!"

Sae's vision twists like a hurricane. The Sae Niijima of the other world always dreamed of owning a luxury automobile. In high school, she'd reward herself for a successful study session by flipping through the glossy photos of an auto magazine. In between lectures on the university campus, her eyes would latch enviously onto the passing roadsters the way lesser women ogled men. At the SIU office, her desktop 'page a day' calendar adorned her desk with three hundred and sixty five luxury European sports models whose stats she could rattle off from memory.

_I bought that car ... my first jackpot winning... polished it, waxed it... cherished it -_

The balcony railing crumples under Sae's downward fists. The sickly yellow light from her eyes is dialed up to a crackling 'eleven'. "Bob! Gun cabinet! Now!"

Oh she was going to make this brat pay!

* * *

Counting down the floor numbers on the glass elevator display, Sae takes stock of her arsenal. A high roller ready to win at any cost, she's always armed to the teeth, the better to deal with sore losers who don't understand the house rules.

For small-fry complainers, she keeps a derringer pistol strapped to her thigh. The switchblade in her clutch takes care of anyone who manages to lunge close. If all else fails, the 'decorative' metal playing cards tucked into the brim of her hat were sharpened to a razor's edge.

But for tonight, nothing screamed "get off my lawn" quite like a double-barrel shotgun.

Locked and loaded, Sae storms across the shattered glass of the busted casino doors. Her first shot takes out the artillery, ripping through the walking motorcycle's left arm and sending the behemoth crashing on its back.

"Johanna!"

The black rider opens a palm over her fell beast and the metal demon vanishes in a snap of blue hellfire, suctioned into her mask. She spins around, muscles tensed into a battle stance. Sae grins.

_Just you and me, love._

"So I finally got your attention," the rider shouts.

"You want me? Well here I am!"

One shot - the rider jukes left. Another shot - the rider ducks low but her feet never leave the ground. Sae unloads a third shot at the rider's boots. Concrete bits spray the rider's costume but the girl ( _only a girl!_ Sae realizes,) stands her ground.

 _Damn, she's got steel-plated balls!_ It's almost disappointing that she's suddenly holding back her trigger finger. Sae gestures with her barrel to the rider's holstered six-shooter. "Draw!"

"I'm not here to fight you, sis."

"Then you're here to die." Sae unloads her next shot straight at the rider's head. There's a horrid ping of ricocheting metal and this time she makes the brat stagger back a pace. The plate-metal mask guarding the brat's face clangs to the asphalt and Sae's ready to crow victory - "Lucky sevens!" - 

\- but then the black rider raises her bloodied face.

The glare of those unmasked eyes makes Sae's heart stop. "M - Makoto?"

Short, brown hair bundled back under a woven, tiara-like headband. Red eyes and a sharp jawline that’s the spitting image of their father. Blood trickles from her temple but even that doesn't dampen the furnace of fury that is Sae's younger sister.

That smouldering rage, those steely eyes. _No... this can't be her!_

"Stop this, sis. Don't make me fight you. The Sae Niijima I grew up with would always listen to reason!"

Makoto wipes the blood from her face and steps forward. Eyes trembling, Sae dives behind her shotgun like it's an armored bunker. "Stay the hell away from me!"

No, that's not what she wants to say. _Come closer, let me have a good look at you._ There's a beauty in this raw anger, like looking into the dancing flames of a wildfire. _When did you grow up into such a powerful young lady?_

Memories from that other world flash through Sae's eyes - quiet Makoto, dutiful Makoto, obedient but weak Makoto. She's never known a Makoto Niijima so self-possessed, so steeled with determination. _Baby, you took a point-blank shot to the face. Let me buy you a drink!_

Makoto takes the silence as her cue to speak.

"If you won't talk, sis, then shut up and listen! My friends, they're coming to take your treasure." Makoto sweeps a leather palm over the smoldering wreckage of the parking lot. "You've seen what I can do, so think about what our whole team will do to your precious palace."

Suddenly, the blood running down Makoto's face is tempered by a clear trickle from her eyes. "So please, sis. Don't make me fight you. Please, just ... give me dad's notebook."

Sae's blood runs cold. _How does she know about- ?_

Her gun barrel is up in a heartbeat. "You want me to forfeit? Before we've even laid our hands down on the table? What do you take me for, a loser?" 

"No, sis -!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" The notebook is tattered and wretched but its memories are what filled her with the resolve to build up her gaudy, neon kingdom! To lose it, to forget it ... she'd lose her every reason for being!

When Sae's eyes open, a monstrous yellow envy surfaces like a leviathan from the depths.

"You won't take anything else away from me, Makoto! You want my treasure? Bring it! Bring your whole nest of Phantom rats if you're ready to gamble it all. I'll be ready for you next time and when you come back, you'll be playing by my rules! You and I, we'll settle this fair and square."

Makoto clenches her jaw, mirroring Sae's grim resolve. Her eyes though, well up with something like ... regret? "Then I guess it's decided."

"I guess it is."

Only Sae doesn't want this game of wills to end. She wants to push this child further, to see what this girl - no, what this woman will do next. _If this is what you're like in that other world, then -_

But they've drawn their lines in the sand and no threat or entreaty will shake their Niijima pride. _We're both his daughter..._

When the cards were laid down, that man turned out to be nothing but a loser but Sae still respects him for knowing how to bluff and draw the game out to his last chip. _C'mon, Mako-chan, give me something. Anything!_

So when a low, gut-churning rumble gurgles up from Makoto's stomach, when those fierce eyes go wide and her schoolgirl cheeks flush, Sae's bloodlust deflates with a snort and a laugh.

_That'll do._

"Did you ... seriously not eat before you came here?"

"I ... I had a lot on my mind!" 

Now her Makoto is blushing and stammering. Sae tips her head back, howling. A memory from another world bubbles up, so vivid it's like she lived it herself!

"First year at Shujin," she recalls, "you skipped breakfast the day of final exams, and I know for a fact you were so caught up studying you missed supper the night before. School nurse called my office and told me you collapsed midway through the test..."

"Siiis!"

Sae shouldn't be laughing but she can't help it.

"And I says to the nurse, 'that's awful! Do you need me to pick her up?' And the nurse - the nurse she says, 'no, the ambulance came and we've got her on fluids! But would you please come tell your sister to let go of her exam paper?'"

Sae is slapping her knee, gasping for air.

"Sh-shut up!" Makoto's pout is all the more adorable when her stomach groans a second time. "I still had half an hour to write that test! And you’re one to talk - putting me on bedrest and promising to take care of meals. You couldn’t even cook porridge without burning it!”

“Hey, it was well done!”

“I still remember you coming into my room with your sleeves rolled up and that silly, white apron! ‘Here, instant oatmeal!’ Sae Niijima, the microwave homemaker!”

Now it’s Makoto’s turn to grin and giggle. Sae groans and does her best to weather the mortifying memory of that damn, frilly apron! Then, a sudden smirk. 

"How long's it been since we laughed like this?"

The silence speaks volumes.

Sae’s sticky, black lips part in a smile and she points with her shotgun at the glass doors to the dining hall. "Hey, the buffet table's pretty damn good here."

"You want me to -?" Makoto recoils. "I'm not going in there with you!"

"Why not? You're casing my joint with your friends, aren't you? Think of it as advance reconnaissance. And it's not an invitation, dummy." Sae slings her shotgun over her shoulder. "This is your big sister telling you to get in there and have a hot meal."

Sae's mind whirs like a mad trap, planning three steps ahead. _If this works..._

Makoto stammers and dodges, looking for any excuse.

"I ... but I don't have any money."

"Honey, this one's on the house." Standing before the neon glitz of her palace, Sae spreads her arms wide. 

_Welcome to my parlor..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking a chance on this opening chapter. Persona 5 is such a fun game and now that I've cleared the main story, I feel confident enough to add to the fandom. This project was inspired by a question that nagged at me during my infiltration of the casino palace: 
> 
> "Where is Shadow Sae's cognitive Makoto?" 
> 
> I hope I've enticed you to stick around and explore this question with me. I know Persona 5 is a game rife with spoilers. Please let me know in the comments if I'm missing any warning tags that would be good etiquette.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Rejection and a Dark Deal

**Sunday, October 30 - Daytime**

An endless rain patters across the Shujin library windows, the strumming of a thousand idle fingers restless for action. Makoto's eyes, normally so focused, so dispassionate, tremble towards her phone.

It's Sunday but that's never stopped Makoto Niijima from coming to school. As an honours student and president of the student council, the faculty have granted her special permission to access the council office and library on weekends. No expenses are spared on promising alumni who will preach the proud legacy of Shujin Academy.

And after what she's witnessed the past two nights, home is the last place she wants to be.

With her books and notes arranged in orderly piles, with her back straight and her physics equations penned exactly within the blue lines of her foolscap, Makoto is the portrait of an ideal student; a persona she's perfected for her principal, for her teachers and for the older sister burdened with raising her.

_"You won't take anything else away from me, Makoto!"_

Makoto winces. Outside, the brick and steel of Shujin Academy holds effortlessly against the torrential rain. Makoto's heart, gripped by memories of lantern-yellow eyes and inviting black smiles, is nowhere near as strong.

_"How long's it been since we laughed like this?"_

Pushed to her limit, Makoto scrambles for her phone.

**=Niijima143=  
** _What's our next move? Are we returning to the palace tonight?_

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _Not tonight. Some preparations I need to take care of._

**=Niijima143=  
** _I see.  
Let me know as soon as you're ready._

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _I will.  
and thanks._

No infiltration. That's one tension resolved and yet Makoto's heart continues to tremble. _I'm this close._ Picturing his profile against a rain-soaked attic window, Makoto seizes her chance.

**=Niijima143=  
** _Actually, if you have time tonight, do you want to study together?  
You could come over to my place  
and I could make you dinner._

Biting her lips, Makoto hits 'send' before she can regret her spontaneity. Now she cringes. It's all wrong - too forward, too desperate, even though she's written it simple and suggestive, the style recommended by all of the teen relationship advice columns she's researched. This _is_ what girls write to the boy they were interested in, right? This is what -

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _Thanks but I've made plans._

Oh.

Oh, the butterfly tempest in her stomach has frozen over but oh, now there's a cold stillness to contend with. Rain batters the school windows, an elemental scream.

**=Niijima143=  
** _Oh, okay. I understand._

Rejection, Makoto reflects, is like a third degree burn. It scalds down to her core but ... now she doesn't have to feel anything anymore, right? A sad laugh escapes her lips and then, to prove how little it hurts, she takes another step across the hot coals.

**=Niijima143=  
** Hey, m _aybe we can do this another time?  
You can be my pretend boyfriend and we can go out for dinner together!_

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _Do you need help with Eiko again?_

**=Niijima143=  
** _No, I just thought  
it'd be nice._

_Nice,_ she cringes. She can picture Joker grimacing all the way in Yongen-Jaya as he types.

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _I think we should give that a break, Niijima-senpai._

Niijima-senpai. He's retreating to full formality; there'll be no misunderstandings.

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _I mean  
We don't want anyone thinking we're actually_

What? Actually going out? Actually interested in each other? _Actually thinking of each other, reaching out when we're at our lowest?_

His next message practically comes gift-wrapped with an awkward shrug.

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _Well, you know._

**=Niijima143=  
** _Right._

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _If you need to talk_

**=Niijima143=  
** _No, don't be silly.  
It was all just pretend.  
Anyway, I should go.  
Gotta get dinner started for sis!  
Goodnight._

She tosses the phone, plants her face in her opened textbook. _God!_ God, how could she put on airs of being so smart and still act so stupid? On the desk, her phone vibrates with another incoming message. Half terrified, half desperate to hear from him, Makoto seizes it and -

**=Pannda_girl=**   
_OMG (^o^)  
Shiho just linked me to this super cute outfit on sale!  
Check it out! XD  
Suuuper cute! <3 <3 <3_

No luck, just Ann, her fellow Phantom Thief. Makoto clicks on her link, gives the clothing a cursory look.

**=Niijima143=  
** _That is kind of adorable, I guess._

**=Pannda_girl=**   
_Sorry  
I just thought you could use something fluffy after last night.  
I mean, seeing your sister like that must have been a shock._

Yes, because as far as the Phantom Thieves are concerned, Saturday night had been Makoto's first foray into Prosecutor Niijima's distorted casino reality, her first glimpse of the shadow nestled within her sister's soul.

**=Niijima143=  
** _It was  
something.  
Hey, Ann, any plans tonight?_

**=Pannda_girl=  
** _Totally! I'm gonna go see that new romantic comedy! ^-^  
I told you about it, right?  
The one starring the model-turned-actress?  
(gotta take notes!) @~@_

**=Niijima143=  
** _That sounds fun.  
Hey, want to go see it together?  
And after we could come back to my place for hot cocoa?_

**=Pannda_girl=  
** _Oh  
um  
I'm kinda going with someone already._

**=Niijima143=  
** _Ah, I see.  
Would your friend be okay if I joined?  
We could make it a "girls’ night out"._

**=Pannda_girl=  
** _Um  
it's not_

**=Pannda_girl= is typing...**

**=Pannda_girl= is typing...**

**=Pannda_girl= is typing...**

The message hovers over the bottom of the chat window, increasingly awkward by the second. _What's so hard to explain?_ Makoto wonders. _Just a night at the movies with a different friend, no big deal._

**=Pannda_girl=  
** _actually nvmd  
I shud go  
train 2 catch  
ttyl  
<3_

And before she can even begin to process Ann's bizarre message, Makoto is pinged into a group chat with two gibbering idiots:

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _Yo, Madame Prez! What's bonkin'?_

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _Salutations, good queen!_

Ryuji and Yusuke? _Oh great._ What idiotic boy prank has inspired these two loose cannons to join forces?

**=Niijima143=  
**... **  
** _Yes?_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _Okay, you're never gonna believe this._

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _We come bearing tidings most astounding!_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _Our fearless leader? I think he's on a date!_

Makoto's fingers freeze.

**=Niijima143=  
** _Excuse me?_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _For real! Yusuke asked Joker to help with a project tonight but got blown off. Something about 'catching a movie'._

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _By itself a mere coincidence, I admit.  
However, at the very same time, our dear Ann declined Ryuji's invitation to play billiards, saying that she too had 'prior commitments' at the theatre!_

**=Niijima143=  
** _And that proves -?_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _Dude, I think they're totally sneaking off together!_

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _A lover's liaison under the light of the silver screen!_

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _Mwa-ha-ha!  
BACK ROW MOVIE MAKEOUT TIME!!  
MAXIMUM LEWDNESS!!_

**=Niijima143=  
** _Futaba-chan??  
You're in this chat too??_

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _Yass, Queen!  
CAN U FEEL TEH LOVE!!? <3  
OMG, this is totally like that chapter from my Featherman AU slice of life manga where Red and Pink start dating in secret!  
I SO ship this!_

**=Niijima143=  
** _This is all just speculation._

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _Nope. I totally bugged the big guy's cell, remember?  
Our "Mister_Jay" just used his phone to order movie tickets.  
TICKETS.   
As in TWO!_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _SEE, I TOLD YA!  
Aw man, Morgana's gonna be SUPER-pissed when he finds out his 'Lady Ann' is taken!_   
_Oh! We should totally follow them!  
Y'know, see what they get up to?_

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _A fine idea! This lovers' courtship could provide the necessary inspiration to complete my new piece on the theme of 'earthly desires'._

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _Mweh-heh-heh, he SAYS he's taking her to the movies  
but I bet after   
he's gonna take her for a bit of 'this and that'._

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _No way! Dude, you think they'll shack up at a love hotel?_

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _Lady Ann does have a most willful personality.  
She DID attempt to seduce me during the Thieves' investigation of Madarame.  
Naturally, I was too pure of heart and mind to be perverted by such feminine wiles._

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _... ( >,<;)  
'Pure of mind', Inari or just 'empty'?_

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _I say!  
No need for vulgarities!_

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _Ecchiness aside..._   
_I bet she's gonna slip him some tongue action!_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _Aw, for real?  
We totally gotta tail them!   
Makoto, you in?_

**=Niijima143=**   
_This is absurd.  
Even if Ann and Joker were  
...  
It would be a complete invasion of their privacy to stalk them._

Makoto does her best to quash the memory of tailing a certain scruffy-haired Phantom Thief through the streets of Kichijoji. Thankfully, no one here has grown wise to her hypocrisy.

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _Man, that's our Queen for ya.  
Always so serious._

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _She does have a most admirable dedication to her studies._

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _Pfft, you normies and your school work.  
Don't you ever have fun?_

**=Niijima143=  
** _Unlike some of us here, I have responsibilities.  
Now if you'll excuse me, I have homework to finish and dinner to prepare for my family._

**=Niijima143= has left the chat.**

Makoto clasps her head in her hands, a crude mask to hide the shame burning her cheeks.

_No way..._

Outside, the rain thunders like an army at the gates, sabers rattling against her battlements.

_Prepare dinner,_ she scoffs. Four-thirty and no texts from sis. _Another overnight at the office._ Makoto's stomach is already protesting in anticipation: with no one to impress, that means another trip to the Triple-7 konbini for another ready-made bento set.

"C'mon," Makoto pleads to her dissenting belly. "It's gonna take a whole hour to cook anything decent and I need that time to -"

_To what?_ Her homework is finished. Double-checked too. She's recopied all of her rough in-class notes and even read a chapter ahead in each of her textbooks, the better to prepare for upcoming material.

_How long have they been together?_ How many nights have they shared, holding hands under the Tokyo skyline and enjoying the 'now' while she hunched over a library table, pouring over sums and sonnets in service of some imagined future?

"Dinner," she repeats. "I'll feel better after I have some dinner."

Yes, she would take the convenience store container home and she would plate it, set the table; fluff the cubes of rice and curry until the store-bought sludge sat fresh and elegant as any restaurant fare. And while Joker and Panther laughed and fed each other kernels of movie theatre popcorn, the refined clink of her chopsticks would echo though her empty apartment.

_What am I doing...?_

Makoto's eyes tremble. She brings a hand to her heart, bracing the heavy lump that's ready to drown in grief. She's ready to surrender, to let herself sink away when the memory of a distorted voice flashes through her mind:

_"Come back any time, darling. I'll serve you up the VIP treatment."_

The siren sweetness makes her flesh crawl. _You can't be serious!_ Sober-minded once more, Makoto collects her books, pushes in her chair and strides to the library doors. Only at the last minute does she remember her discarded phone.

Outside, the rain picks up into an all-out hammering as Makoto picks up her smart phone. While a tempest claws though Tokyo, she swipes through electronic screens, feeling a rising disgust in her chest as she inspects the orderly rows of schoolwork-related apps for scientific calculators and online English dictionaries.

Thunder cracks as her thumb hovers over the grim, red eye of the Metaverse Navigator.

* * *

A cognitive palace is a living, breathing metaphor for a ruler's distorted view of the world. Makoto keeps this in mind as security guards in black sunglasses march her, the rebellious black rider, through their opulent casino world. Glass doors to the dining hall slide open and Makoto is struck with a new insight to her sister's distortion.

_It's not a casino, it's a slaughterhouse._

Guests in sharply-tailored suits and gowns are crammed into tightly packed tables, gorging themselves on greasy buffet fare and foamy alcohol that will embolden their gambling spirits. Here is her sister's distorted view of the masses: livestock to be herded through the criminal justice system.

The smiling waiters and sommeliers attending to the guests are like defense attorneys, plating trays with hope and assurances. Once the guests to this rigged playhouse of law are fattened up and made to feel confident, they're hurried off to the courthouse - a glittering, one-armed bandit that would bankrupt their hopes and dreams.

_It's not about guilt or innocence anymore,_ Makoto realizes. _It's about moving product through the system._ And the product is human lives.

"Up the stairs," grunts the leader of her security detail, another cog in her sister's machine.

Makoto marches up the velvet-red steps. _Of course._ All the small-fry offenders she and her guards leave behind are beneath sis' direct involvement. Makoto's finds herself on a balcony level catering to the high-stakes guests who've rolled the dice on murder, corruption and trafficking. There, she spies a private table, hidden from the masses by elegant folding screens decorated in Japanese art. _I wonder if that’s a Madarame._ It's difficult to tell when one's signature style changes depending on the apprentice being plagiarized that season.

Spicy aromas waft by Makoto's nostrils. Before her stands a gold-trimmed table crammed with piping-hot and decadent dishes: giant tuna carved open and seasoned with lemon, tropical fruits sliced and arranged into towering centerpieces; even a whole roasted boar, complete with an apple-stuffed snout. The banquet guests are a mix of cognitions 'invited' into the criminal justice system. On the table's left, a delegation seedy, blinged-out gangsters aping Kaneshiro's fashion sense. To the right, a collection of properly dressed politicians and businessmen in three-piece suits, their propriety a poor mask for their inner sins.

And at the head of the table, the host of this show-trial banquet; the almighty judge, jury and executioner - her sister.

_No,_ Makoto reminds herself, _that's not sis_. Merely an abomination wearing Sae's skin like a cheap costume, mocking everything the Niijima names stands for.

Even while dining, the shadow wears that ridiculously wide-brimmed hat, accompanied by that shamefully revealing evening dress, all leg-slits and see-through fishnets held together with a spiked choker around its neck. Sipping blood-red wine, the shadow turns to address the incoming guards, its lips and eyes smeared black like a bloodthirsty harlequin.

"Well, well. What have we here?"

Makoto's chief guard spasms and jerks like a puppet, limbs bulging with muscle and head bursting into its masked form. Its voice booms in the distorted voice shared among corrupted cognitions.

"Lady Niijima, this intruder approached the front entrance demanding to speak with management. She was carrying this."

A cloth-wrapped package is dumped onto Lady Niijima's dish of foie gras. Sis' shadow raises a stink-eye, leading Makoto to suspect this blunt underling will not be living past the work shift. Nevertheless, the casino boss undoes the package's topknot and peers inside.

And smirks. "Leave us," she orders.

On command, both guests and guards stand and file out of the banquet hall. Makoto swallows down her nerves and clenches her fists. Once more, the game is down to her and the shadow, the black rider in the belly of the beast.

Sis's shadow snaps its fingers. A bit of cognitive magic to draw back the chair on the far end of the table. A second snap "poofs" the cloth package in front of the awaiting table setting. "Have a seat. You must be starving."

Makoto takes her place and unwraps her bento box. The shadow bares its teeth in a wry grin. "Daring, I'm all for frugal spending but Triple-7? Really? You're not hard for cash in that other world, are you?"

Makoto ignores the jab. "Since I had no other plans tonight, I thought I'd use my dinner as an opportunity to observe you."

"Ah, so you're here to spy on me? That's clever. Let me know if you want any fashion or make-up tips."

"You joke but I've collected so much data already. For starters, I see you've fully repaired the damages from two nights ago. Looking at the palace now, I'd never have known anything was out of place. Is that the strength of your distortion?"

"No, that's just knowing the right contractors and construction firms. A little cash passed into the right hands always gets the results you want. Want me to warm that up for you?"

"I'm fine."

"With cold pork katsu?" The shadow waves its hand across the table of exotic delicacies. "This is all yours! Eat!"

"This is a cognitive world. Your food wouldn't do me any good."

"Then it wouldn't do you any harm, either. C'mon, you stuffed yourself plenty the other night."

Makoto stiffens. "That was just an excuse to enter your palace and look over your operation."

"Uh huh. It's all buffet, so it's not like I'm poisoning you or anything. I've been eating here for the last half hour and I'm healthy enough, aren't I?"

The shadow bats its eyelashes, oblivious to the sickly yellow glow of its eyes or the tar smeared around its blackened lips. Makoto focuses on her plate, keeping her back straight and her eyes down to project an air of noble dignity. _I'm not like you._

Nevertheless, it's impossible to ignore the eyes bearing down on her or the throaty purr studying her. A distorted chuckle finally makes Makoto's head snap up. "What's so funny?"

"Visiting me on a Sunday night? All by yourself? Your friends shot you down, didn't they?"

"The remainder of the Phantom Thieves are making preparations to re-infiltrate your palace."

"Aww, even the scruffy-haired one in the black jacket? Oh don't give me that look - I've been studying the security footage from last night. Not exactly subtle the way you cozied up at his side like a lost puppy. And after I showed up? Don't think I didn't see you gasp and grab his sleeve. He's cute, I'll give you that. Pity he kept glancing at the blonde."

Makoto shoves back her chair. "I'm leaving."

"Leaving? Makoto, wait!"

Grinding her teeth, Makoto ignores the shadow. _Coming here was a mistake._ She makes it three steps when the air distorts - more cognitive realignment. Sae's shadow has blinked itself from the table to the staircase, barring her path with wide arms and even wider eyes.

"Don't go," it pleads, a shaky whisper. Perhaps it's just Makoto's imagination but the distress in that distorted voice almost sounds genuine. "It was a dumb joke. I screwed up. Please, I -"

Its voice falters. Makoto scowls.

_I could just push her aside._ She wouldn't even require the power of her Persona, just a good, forceful shove. But seeing this creature distort her sister's face makes her pause.

"I'm not like the Sae in your world. I don't ... I don't have you." The shadow's posture crumples. "It's just me, all by myself."

Makoto's fists unclench. A hopeful light brightens the shadow's eyes. "Stay? Just a little longer?"

Against all better judgement, Makoto finds herself guided back to the banquet table. "Only so you can answer my questions," she explains. "You said this world is missing a cognitive version of me. Yet you know who I am. You recognize that I ought to be your sister. How?"

Sis' shadow sits back in her chair, rubbing her chin.

"When I dream - yes, don't scoff; I dream at night. And when I do, I see us together. An apartment in a high-rise, a middling job in a government office. It's revolting. Every night I'm haunted by the weaker me, a world where I have to kiss up to some incompetent, old man just to close a case; where I have to work myself to the bone to get every little detail right because no one believes a woman prosecutor can do a man's job."

Makoto nods along. If this ... abomination spawned from sis' workplace pressures to lie, cheat and rig cases, it made a certain sense that there would be limited memories and experiences from which to craft a cognitive younger sister. _Does she even keep a photo of me on her desk?_

The shadow continues. "You're the part of those dreams I can stand the least. The dutiful little sister, simpering about my home like a little maid-servant, fishing for scraps of praise. It's sickening really."

Makoto makes to stand. The shadow speaks faster.

"That's why when you rode in here the other night, I couldn't keep my eyes off you! All steel and attitude, riding on a badass bike! I asked myself, _who is this?_ The Makoto I saw in the other world was a good-girl people-pleaser but _you_ \- marching in like you own the place, standing firm when I came after you - you're a queen!"

Behind her steel visor, Makoto's eyes hesitate. She doesn't know if she's the perfect judge of character. She's pretty good at calling out bullshit lies when they're loud and obvious; she thinks she has a decent grasp of what guilt and evasion look like on a worried face, an inner compass that warns her when honeyed words sound a bit too perfect.

The story this shadow weaves for her ... it sounds genuine.

"Hey, that stunt you pulled the other night." The shadow grins like a little girl. "Riding up on your bike, trashing my lobby - what an entrance! Where'd you come up with that move?"

"Oh, well ... I saw it in a movie." A Hong Kong revenge flick. "The main character needs to get the crime boss' attention and ... well, it worked for him."

"It didn't just work, baby, you blew my mind! Hey, I bet if you rode up to scruffy-hair's place like that, you'd have him hanging off your arm in a heartbeat!"

"It was a passing infatuation. All for the best. Apparently, our leader prefers foreign girls."

"Ah."

The crowded noise of the ground-level buffet floats over their table. The shadow raises its head. "You've got a lot on your plate, hon. If you wanna talk about it –”

"I should finish my meal and go." Makoto dabs a napkin under her eyes and raises her chopsticks. Another finger snap sends a glass container clinking against Makoto's plate. She looks up at the black condiment bottle realigned to her side of the table.

"At least put on some soya sauce. It's making my stomach sick watching you eat that bland crap."

Makoto rolls her eyes. A quick shake onto her rice, then she spears a bite with her chopsticks. The shadow's lantern-like eyes hang on her every move, latching onto the black morsel as it rises towards her lips -

Behind her mask, Makoto's eyes pop open. Beneath steel plating, her cheeks flush under the unexpected rush of flavor. _So good!_

The black sauce draws her in for another bite. _Not like I'm actually eating all that salt, right? It's just tricking my mind to think I am, right?_

Of course that's right! Makoto drowns her plate in rich, black soya. Gobbles it down. Sae's shadow is grinning.

"We have an ice cream bar here too. Top notch."

* * *

Three empty bowls sit before Makoto's table setting, soon to be joined by a fourth if she can remember to eat between her ranting.

"-and, I mean, Ann's a lovely girl and all but her grades! Don't get me wrong, she's wonderful with English; she's even helped me with phrasing once or twice but she really needs to concentrate on studying! And her prospects! I mean, she says she wants to be a professional fashion model but how viable is that as a career? Why would you want to commit yourself to someone so ... so ...?”

"Blonde?"

Makoto glares back at the shadow. "I was going to say 'unserious'. However you look at it, there are better choices for a long-term relationship partner."

A tall, butler-esque shadow in the black coattails steps forward with a fresh triple-scoop sundae. Makoto scowls at the kitchen's latest offering, all pinks and reds. "No chocolate sauce?"

The shadow inclines its head and moves to return the dish. Makoto pulls the bowl off the tray. "I mean, I'll eat it, it's just -" honestly, what philistine didn't add chocolate sauce onto a sundae? Across the table, her sister's shadow chuckles.

"Bob here has a lot to learn about reading a woman, isn't that right, Bob?"

"As you say, Madam. My sincerest apologies, Miss Niijima."

"Ha! That's the spirit! Maybe Bob here could teach your Joker a thing or two."

"Boys are impossible," Makoto sighs. "I mean, if they're not drooling over those air-brushed, photoshopped magazine spreads, they're wasting their time on cheap thrills and laughs. I mean, Yusuke, bless his soul, really needs to start thinking about what he's going to do for work once he graduates. And Ryuji! Ugh, don't get me started on Ryuji!"

Makoto chows down on her ice cream before she can really say something truly untoward. It's no good. The bowl slams down, her frustrations bubble up beyond her control.

"And another thing! What's with all of these cheesy teen romances on TV and in light novels? It's like every girl in my homeroom is panicking about pairing up and finding their 'true love' before graduation! It’s to the point where boys are all they can think of! And they say, 'Makoto, Makoto, why are you so picky?' and I'm like, 'look at the boys around us!' Who wants to fall in love with these ... these children!?"

She exhales. "And then I meet _him_ and he's sweet and responsible and a good listener and I ... I honestly start thinking, _maybe it'll be different with him._ Maybe I can fall for a guy and be normal."

The shadow nods along, patient as a saint against all this emotional unloading. "Doesn't this feel good? Letting off a bit of steam?"

_It really does._ Makoto thinks back to all her meals at home in the real world, silent affairs even when Sae did come home. Sis never wanted to discuss her work - it brought up the job stress she came home to escape - and so long as Makoto's kept up her grades, that was all Sae needed to hear from her.

Actually sharing their feelings? Actually discussing their problems and offering to shoulder one another's burdens? No, a Niijima daughter stood tall and alone.

_No wonder this world's missing a cognitive little sister. Why would sis have the time to worry about me?_

But this twisted creature spawned from her sister's dreams...

"Hey," Sae's distorted voice shakes Makoto from her reverie. "We should do this again some time."

The sweetly offer wafts through the air, practically dripping with honey. Makoto looks across the table to the shadow's hungry, lantern-yellow eyes, to its endless, black smile; to its gloved fingers drumming atop the table like a spider's clawed legs. She swallows carefully.

"I really should get going..."

"Of course. Hey, I get it. You're a busy girl - school, studies, stealing treasure. Not fair to ask so much of your time without making it worth your while."

Makoto's ears perk. Assured of a rapt audience, the shadow leans back in its chair and steeples its sharpened fingers.

"In this casino, there's a very special door I don't want anyone opening. An armor-plated, password-protected security door that can only be opened with a six-digit combination."

_Her treasure vault?_ The shadow offers only a silent smile.

"Every time you come and visit me, I'll tell you one of the password numbers. Scout's honour. In fact, since you've been such wonderful company tonight, I'll throw out a freebie. The first number is six."

"You could be lying," Makoto counters.

"Ah, but here's the catch: three wrong password entries will trigger the explosives I've rigged all throughout this casino. If I'm lying -"

"- then you're dying." Makoto crosses her arms in careful thought. "First number is six... That leaves less than sixty thousand permutations to consider."

"So how about it? Take a gamble on me and improve your odds."

Before Makoto can reply, Bob approaches the table to whisper in her sister's ear. Black eyes startle wide and the shadow examines a pocket watch to confirm the time. Its face rankles in disgust.

"Ugh, already? Fine, I'll take care of it." A shrug across the table. "Seems we've got to cash out for tonight. Bob, be a lamb and see my sister to the door?"

"At once, madam."

"Think about my offer," it adds.

"I'll consider it." Best to be diplomatic, Makoto reasons. The shadow seems satisfied with her answer.

"Straight to bed once you get home, you hear? You're no good to anybody if you're falling asleep on your feet."

A final snap of its fingers and the shadow vanishes, off to inspect whatever business it had scheduled and forgotten. Bob inclines his head and gestures to the stairs. "This way please, Miss Niijima."

* * *

As Bob escorts her through the casino, Makoto's tactical mind pours over the shadow's offer like a puzzle cube, analyzing every facet for clues.

_Clearly this is its way of stalling for time. As long as I continue visiting on my own, the Phantom Thieves won't be ready to steal its treasure. And even if I did act as a diversion while Joker and the others snuck around, it could easily turn me into a hostage. A ransom for the returned treasure._

As if sensing her thoughts, Bob chimes in with his own take. "The manager was quite pleased to see you return. It's rare to catch her in such good spirits."

"Yeah, I'll bet." And yet ... the nervous tremble in its eyes, the honest panic when Makoto had been prepared to walk out of the room. Were those quick, emotional reactions things you could fake?

_We enact a change of heart by taking the treasure and defeating the shadow. Could I convince this shadow to willingly give up? Show it the error of its ways?_

Because if the alternative is to confront the shadow as they'd done with Kaneshiro and President Okumura...

Makoto shudders. She doesn't even want to think about facing her sister that way.

"Here we are, Miss Niijima. We look forward to your next visit."

She'd been so lost in thought, she hadn't realized they'd arrived at the entrance. Not only that but the weather! "It's raining?"

"Indeed, Miss Niijima. Are you in need of an umbrella?"

"No, it's just -" _The weather in the Metaverse. I always assumed it was static._ Fixed in permanent sun or shade to suit the palace ruler's preferences.

Stepping through the sliding glass doors, Makoto has to shield her face from the hard rain driving down in endless sheets. _Never even realized it started to pour._ Inside Sis' palace, everything had been warm and bright and inviting.

_There's so little we know about how palaces work_. Future infiltrations could proceed so much smoother and efficient if the Phantom Thieves had an insider's knowledge of Metaverse mechanics. Even her own battle strategies and tactical advice could be enhanced if...

_... if I study our enemy._

That's the lie Makoto whispers in her mind, the appeasement to her stronger half - the battle strategist, the black rider, Johanna's champion.

Deep in her heart, a lost little girl cups her hands around a glowing ember of truth.

_... if I go see my sister._


	3. Little Lamb and Stolen Secret

Deep in the heart of her Metaverse palace, Sae Niijima sits back in her office chair, eyes shut and chin propped on a gloved hand. With her lips curved into a dreamy, easygoing smile, Sae is a portrait of sloth and lax - the overworked manager caught in a rare nap. Only a careful study and a sharp ear give away her tell: her left hand, drumming leisurely atop the velvet armrest as she awaits her prey.

She's delegated the day to day business of the casino to Bob: visitor services, inventory management. Ever considerate, her manservant's even gone ahead and prepped the buckets full of cash for tonight. All that's required of her is to wait.

Sae listens. The far-off bustle and thrum of her casino echoes up the myriad floors and into her office like vibrations along a spider's web. Her ears sift through the white noise, tensed for the violent thrum of a motorcycle engine.

She'll be back, of that, Sae is certain. She knows how to lure each and every one of her visitors in for one more pull at the slot machine. Be it a small-time criminal sitting on valuable evidence or a single parent with shaky custody rights, Sae knows how to squeeze them all. She's dangled the perfect bait. Makoto _will_ come back.

In the meantime, Sae's fingernails continue their calm, rhythmic drumming.

_It won't be much longer._

* * *

**Monday, October 31 - After School**

_How much longer now?_

Makoto's mechanical pencil taps an urgent drumbeat on her notebook, pleading for the clock in the student council office to move just a little bit faster. Her eyes scan the latest messages in the group chat and a debate she has long since settled in her own mind.

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _Hey, we heading back into the palace today or what?_

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _Palace! Palace!_

**=Niijima143=  
** _Tonight?_ **  
** _Don't you think that's rushing it?_

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _On the contrary, a decisive strike may prove best._ **  
** _If we allow your sister to continue her investigation, she may discover some evidence that could unfavorably alter her cognition._

**=Pannda_girl=  
** _Makes sense to me. I'm in._

**_=~*StarOnionFan*~=_ ** **  
** _Agreed._

Makoto prepares to type a rebuttal but back-up comes from the most unlikely of places.

**=TheAce(^v^)=  
** _If it's all the same, might I request that we postpone?_ **  
** _I have a TV interview tonight that will prove rather tricky to reschedule._

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _That's fine. I think we could all use an early night tonight._

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _Oooh…_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _LOL I know YOU'LL need an early night, my man!_ **  
** _Amiright, Ann?_

**=Pannda_girl=  
** _(o_0);_

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _I'm confused._ **  
** _Is Joker ill?_

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _Oh he's sick all right._ **  
** _Caught a case of cat-scratch fever!_ **  
** _MEEEOW!_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _ROFL!_

**=Al1b@ba=  
** _XD_

**=FoxyArtist=  
** _…?_

**=Pannda_girl=  
** _(-_o)?_ **  
** _What are you two talking about?_ **  
** _Don't make weird jokes! XP_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _Aww~! She's so cute when she's embarrassed._ **  
** _You bagged yourself a sweetheart, dude! For real!_

**=Pannda_girl=  
** _WHAT?_

**=Mister_Jay=  
** _um…_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=  
** _All right, later it is then._ **  
** _Ping me if anything changes!_

**=SkullKidd(8)X=has left the chat.**

As her teammates log off one by one, Makoto finds herself summoned into a private chat she'd rather avoid.

**=TheAce(^v^)=  
** _I hope I'm not being too intrusive but…_ **  
** _Our leader and Takamaki-san._ **  
** _Are they -?_

Makoto scowls as she jabs the on-screen keys.

**=Niijima143=  
** _Go ahead and message them yourself._ **  
** _What are you asking me for?_

**=TheAce(^v^)=  
** _Ah, so that's how it is._ **  
** _My apologies. I merely wished to confirm a suspicion._ **  
** _You see, from the way you always stand so close to him, I had assumed he was -your- lover._

Makoto is both grateful for the digital separation that conceals her blush and furious that she can't punch this jerk in the arm.

**=Niijima143=  
** _I guess a great detective can't be right all the time._

**=TheAce(^v^)=  
** _True, an element of humility is required._ **  
** _But I'm so happy for you, Niijima-san._ **  
** _It must be such a relief to put aside all this play-acting._

**=Niijima143=  
** _Acting?_

**=TheAce(^v^)=  
** _Come now, Niijima-san, I know why you picked him._ **  
** _Good grades, good looks, good manners._ **  
** _(~-_-)  
He's sickeningly normal._ **  
** _A perfectly normal boyfriend for a perfectly normal high school girl._

**=Niijima143=  
** _I don't know what you're talking about._

**=TheAce(^v^)=  
** _Lies don't become you, Makoto._ **  
** _Even without my glimpse at your phone's home screen,_ **  
** _Even without spying the 'literature' you keep in your book bag,_ **  
** _I could tell._ **  
** _:)_ **  
** _I know how to spot one of my own._

Makoto is tempted to fire back. "What, a liar?" She bites her tongue and restrains her fingers.

**=Niijima143=  
** _I have homework to finish._

**=TheAce(^v^)=  
** _Of course._ **  
** _Let me know if you'd like any literary recommendations._ **  
** _Although, on second thought …_ **  
** _My collection might be a bit too 'manly' for your tastes._ **  
** _:)_

**=Niijima143= has left the chat.**

"That self-righteous jerk! What does he know?"

The conversation with Akechi leaves her brain fuming and her mind set. _I'm doing it. I'm going back into the Metaverse._

Makoto packs her bag with a little more haste; her books and pencils are tossed in with a little more force and she makes an extra effort to make sure _that_ book is shoved directly to the bottom. She takes a last minute to steel herself – to breathe deeply and reset her composure. She is a Niijima daughter and the student council president. She needs to act the part and not lose her cool over every stray insinuation. _I can handle anything._

But when she slides the council office door open, Makoto finds herself utterly taken aback by the figure standing directly in the doorway. "Haru?"

The auburn-haired third year greets her with a cheerful smile. "Good afternoon, Makoto. Do you have a minute?"

No, she doesn't! Every second wasted here is precious time she could spend reforming her sister's shadow. But judging by the anxious wringing of hands, Haru has something on her mind, and the telltale fidget of her legs suggests she's been waiting outside this door some time.

Makoto smiles as she slips into the comforting role of student body president. "I'm always available to hear a concern. Was there something you needed to speak to the student council about?"

Haru giggles and tilts her smile up a notch. "Oh, nothing like that. Actually I just wanted to check in with you. Are you doing well, Mako-chan?"

"Am I well?" The exclamation is out before she can catch herself. "I mean - Yes, very well. Thank you." _Mako-chan? Where's that coming from?_

"I was meaning to speak with you sooner but you seemed as though you needed some time to yourself."

"Well, I am rather busy and I do need to be going." Makoto steps into the hallway, closing the door and beginning a brisk jaunt to the stairwell. Haru bounds after her like a loyal puppy.

"I know what it's like to see your family inside a palace, Mako-chan. I know these last few days have been hard for you, never mind studying for exams and investigating Crow."

Right, Makoto recalls, because on top of his politely-veiled personal attacks and his blackmailing the Phantom Thieves into disbanding, dear sweet Akechi-kun is lying through his teeth about his familiarity with the Metaverse. But why?

"Well, Futaba-chan will let us know if anything comes up on that front," Makoto reminds her. They reach the ground floor and Haru, sensing her time is short, scoots into Makoto's path once more.

"A-anyway, if you need to talk about your sister - I mean, if you want someone to talk to - well, I think talking is always a good idea. I talk to my flowers all the time and it seems to cheer them up."

Makoto scrunches her face. "I think plants get along fine with good soil and water."

"Oh no, I'm sure of it! Taro-kun grew a whole two inches after I spent a week reading that light novel to him. I measured."

Another odd silence follows as Makoto studies her teammate. Good-natured to a fault, Haru smiles through it all.

Makoto doesn't know what to say to the newest member of the Phantom Thieves. While she's seen first-hand how strong Haru can be - confronting the cognitive versions of her fiancé and her father - she also remembers the tremors consuming Haru's hands when she made those declarations of war; how helpless the heiress had been to fend off her flesh and blood suitor in the real world.

_So frail,_ Makoto winces. Always styling her hair in those puffy ringlets, always wearing that fluffy pink cardigan over her school uniform, as though she'll catch her death of cold without an extra layer. She reminds Makoto so much of a little lost lamb, so desperate to be held and guided.

_Always glancing down at your feet. You can't even look me in the eye. How can you possibly understand what I'm going through?_ Out loud, Makoto is more tactful. "Haru, I appreciate your concern but I really need to be getting home. My sister's expecting dinner ready when she returns."

"Oh, I see."

"So if you'll excuse me, I -"

That's as far as Makoto gets before her shoe slips on a stray paper. "Whoa!" Her legs skitter forward, her arms launch into the air; only Haru's last-minute catch under the shoulders saves Makoto from slamming on her pelvis or twisting an ankle.

But her book bag goes flying anyhow. Makoto pales as her unzipped bag scatters its contents midair, littering the hallway with papers, pens and very private reading materials.

"Mako-chan?"

"I'm okay!" The book! Makoto is on her knees in a heartbeat, snatching up her treasured possessions and cramming them back in her bag. She has to find the book!

"Let me help, Mako-chan!" Without waiting on a reply, Haru jogs over to pick up the furthest items.

"I've got this, Haru." By some miracle, there's only a few students lingering in the hallway and everyone is content to watch from a distance as they offer up snickers and catty remarks.

"Exam stress must be getting to Miss Perfect."

"I guess even robots slip up once in a while."

Makoto ignores them all. _Math notebook, calculator. Dammit, where's that -_

"Mako-chan, I found your -" Haru's voice dies on her lips. Makoto dies a little inside. Raising her head is unbearable but she forces herself to meet Haru's gaze, to see the girl holding -

Her phone? Oh, sweet relief! Haru's only holding her lost phone. "I've got it, Haru." Makoto offers a hand to accept.

Haru doesn't reciprocate, doesn't even appear to notice. Her eyes, wide in disbelief, are locked on the phone. "Haru?"

It takes a tremendous strength of will but Haru manages to swallow her nerves and turn the unlocked screen over for inspection. The MetaNav app is on display, Makoto's travel history tab available for all to see.

"I - I didn't mean to pry but -"

Makoto swipes the phone back, stabs the 'screen off' button and buries the evidence in her bag. Turning her back on Haru, Makoto picks up the last of her English notes, taps them into an orderly pile and fastidiously returns them to their place, the portrait of order and calm.

"Makoto, have you really been going - I mean, all by yourself?"

"It's nothing, Haru. I'm just doing a little surveillance work on my sister's shadow, that's all. Popping in and out."

"For three hours at a time?"

Damnable phantom app, logging her travel time. _Who even collects the data anyway?_ When she brought it up at the last meeting, their leader could only shrug and mutter something about a "big nose". Nosey indeed!

In the ensuing silence, Haru's fraying nerves send her hands retreating into their sleeves. Only her petite fingertips dare remain to fidget with her zipper. _Darn it all, if I don't calm her..._ Makoto takes a deep breath and puts on her best 'wise mentor' smile.

"Look, I've only been to the palace twice on my own and all we've done is talk." Over shotgun blasts and explosions but Haru needn't concern herself with those details. "The shadow doesn't want to hurt me, Haru. It thinks I'm its family. Its sister. It's just like with your father - you and I, we're recognized differently."

"I suppose..."

"Look, the shadow is telling me all sorts of things about its palace. If I don't do this, we may never be able to progress past certain cognitive barriers inside. This is for the good of the team. You understand that, right?"

"I ... you do have a point. Joker and Mona-chan, they're okay with it?"

"I'm the team tactician; they'd better be okay with it!"

Makoto cringes and tries to walk back from that outburst. "I mean, I don't want to worry them until I've got a solid lead. Besides, our leader seems to have ... other things on his mind."

"You think so too?" Haru beams, eager to gossip over an ordinary school topic. "The other night, Kanako-san from my class saw him with Takamaki-chan at the movie theatre in Shibuya! Isn't it romantic?"

Makoto doesn't even bother hiding her disgusted grimace. Haru deflates.

"Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't... so you really did like -"

"I need to get going."

"Right…"

"Not a word to the team, all right?"

Makoto power walks for the door but before she can escape, Haru calls after her one last time. Makoto turns and answers. Then she's off and running, disappearing down the first back alley she finds. Reality ripples and distorts, and from the opposite end of the dark path, the black rider marches into the Metaverse with grim resolve. "Johanna!"

A name, a battle cry. Makoto tears the mask from her skin to call forth her other self. Johanna revs onto the street in a blaze of nuclear fire. A queen once more, Makoto mounts her silver steed and guns the throttle, grateful beyond words for the engine screaming on her behalf.

She rides through the false city to the golden abomination towering over the judicial district. At the front walkway, the shadowy valets wisely back away, jabbering into their walkie talkies to alert management of the new VIP. Not that it matters. _Her_ shadow is already standing before the front doors, awaiting with eager eyes and a black smile. Its arms spread wide in welcome.

Halfway up the walk, Makoto remembers her final moment with Haru and the chilled look on her ally's face. _"So you're going? Back into the palace?"_

Sae's shadow closes the gap, placing its hands on Makoto's shoulders just as she'd done to Haru before smiling her parting assurances.

_"Haru, trust me. I know exactly what I'm doing."_

* * *

Makoto flings her useless hand of cards onto the tabletop. "Arrgh! How exactly are you doing this?"

Across the gambling table, Sae's shadow crows and scoops up its poker chip winnings, hording the colourful discs in her arms. "Another round?"

"We're playing blackjack," Makoto exclaims. "This is a game of fixed probabilities, so there's no way you should be winning every round!"

"What can I say? I was born under a lucky star." The shadow glances at the smart phone set aside on the table, chuckling to itself. "Bob, deal 'em out!"

"As you wish, madam." Seated midway between the players, the shadow butler scoops up the stray cards, snapping and shuffling the deck in mid-air with a Las Vegas pizazz.

Makoto's index finger pecks at the felt table while she takes a noisy slurp of her cola. How? Blackjack is a game of set odds - there are so many cards in the deck making so many combinations up to and over twenty-one. Each round she carefully estimates the odds of busting and holds at a safe sum. And each round, the shadow nudges past her by a tally of one or two! It's uncanny!

Scowling at the absurdity of it all, Makoto steals a glance at her cell phone. 8:45 pm. Still plenty of time. She's going to solve the puzzle of this rigged game and win at least one hand if it's the last thing she does!

Sis' shadow, as though sensing her new resolve, decides to throw her a bone. "Such an interesting background photo on your phone. That model's quite the looker."

Makoto slams her phone face-down, cheeks burning red. She sets her eyes to scanning the celling décor. "You're cheating! You've got cameras angled to watch my hand, don't you? You're watching the feed on your phone!"

Sae's shadow only smiles in return. Its smugness sits thick as molasses. Makoto turns to the dealer. "She's cheating, isn't she?"

Bob's shuffling slows by a hair before remembering his prepared statements. "Madam Niijima is playing within all acceptable parameters endorsed by this gaming facility."

"So she's cheating."

The shadow fidgets, looking to his manager for a lifeline. Sae gives a melodious chuckle. "Mako-chan, when you set the rules, it can't be cheating."

Makoto's palm hits the table, rattling the stacks of poker chips. "This is -! Don't you realize where we are? You may have deluded yourself into thinking this is a high-stakes casino but in the real world, this is a court of law!"

The shadow rolls its eyes like a scolded child, scoffing at the lecture. Makoto keeps up the pressure, yanking off her steel visor so she can look this creature right in the eye. "Try to remember! You're not some femme-fatale high roller, you're a public prosecutor!"

"Well if I'm a prosecutor, then maybe I should be the one leading the interrogation." The shadow's smile takes on a nasty edge. "Tell me more about that lovely creature decorating your phone."

Makoto palms her phone, half afraid it'll be teleported off the table. "That's none of your business."

"Ah, no name. I guess you're just a sucker for a cute face. Does your scruffy-haired leader know about those photos?"

"I don't have to answer that."

"And I don't have to entertain a spoiled brat." Sae's shadow pushes back its chair, gesturing at Bob to clean up the table. "Good luck opening that vault."

"Wait!"

The shadow turns back ever so slowly, taunting her with its bemused smile. "Yes?"

Makoto curses inwardly but her back's against the ropes. "If I show you, you have to promise you won't tell anyone. Understand?"

Sae's shadow mimes slashing an 'X' over its breast. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

_Do you even have a heart?_ Makoto shudders at mental flashes of black and wormy organs. And yet, a deal's a deal. Sighing, Makoto unlocks her phone and slides the tablet across the table. Black gloves greedily scoop up the phone, grinning hungrily at Makoto's secret shame, exposed.

A striking, soft-skinned brunette.

"That's Hifumi Togo," Makoto explains, eyes averted to the floor. "She's a Tokyo high school student and a competitive shogi player, the first female competitor to be accepted into the national circuit. With her accomplishments, she's someone I have a lot of admiration for."

The shadow croons, parading the phone around like a boy showing off a magazine centerfold. "Mm-hmm, I can see she's got a lot to admire."

Makoto rolls her eyes. _It's not like that!_ But the photo doesn't exactly present Togo-san at her professional best. Oh, there's a token shogi board sitting in the corner of the frame, its wooden pieces scattered in an artful mess over the tatami mat floor of a traditional Japanese inn, but Togo-san is the photographer's true focus, sitting sideways on her hip while a black cocktail dress with spaghetti straps plunges down her chest and slides up her barely-covered thighs. A bowl of ripe strawberries is set before Togo-san's knees and the photo captures the young woman as she raises one of the tasty treats to her moist, pink lips. Togo-san's eyes stare off and to the side, oblivious to the cameraman and the intrusion on her private delight.

Makoto had thought long and hard before selecting this photo as her phone backdrop and she stands ready to defend her selection: the elegant setting combined with her lackadaisical pose paint Togo-san as a lady both refined and relaxed - a "princess next-door". The mature black dress raises her profile above the common, cutesy idol fodder; her distant eyes declare her indifference to the spotlight. She's above all this shallowness.

Some aspects of the photoshoot are harder to defend. Someone on set (some man) directed Togo-san to slip a dress strap off her shoulder, leaving a ribbon of black lace dangling from her pale upper arm. Her bare shoulder, her open lips; the fact that half the spread is taken up by Togo-san's long, creamy legs - all cheap fodder to entice shallow eyes towards a slimy tabloid cover. And it makes Makoto admire Togo-san all the more for choosing to direct her eyes away from the photographer, away from it all - for pegging herself above all this nonsense.

"That's the cover shot from a magazine interview she did several months back," Makoto explains, arms crossed as she launches into her Togo-san apologist mode. "The writer was supposed to profile her latest matches at the national level but instead, he just quizzed her on all sorts of shallow garbage like her favorite musical groups or what sweets she enjoys. They portrayed her like she's a common idol instead of a strategic mastermind!"

Sae's shadow raises an eyebrow at the long-winded rant. "Uh huh. So, she do a lot of these publicity shoots?"

"A ton! It's actually disgusting what she's required to do in order to stand out in a male-dominated field. I've read inside scoops on Togo-san messageboards - posts from students who attend her school - explaining she only does these shoots to help her family with their money problems. It's the truth."

"Well you've certainly done your homework."

"Oh, you don't believe me?" Makoto snatches her phone back. "I have articles saved to my phone, web links too." Argh, but dammit, here in the Metaverse, all her apps are reduced to cheap placards flashing 'error' messages. _How can I -?_ "Is there a public Wi-Fi here?"

"GoldStar_Guest," Bob chimes from his seat at the table. "One word, underscore after 'Star'. No passcode necessary."

It's the first network on Makoto's list and strangely enough, it works. She connects! Normally she'd pause and focus more on the logistics - connecting to a pretend Internet in a pretend world - but right now she just wants to put this haughty puppet in its place. "What's your contact info?"

"Makoto, you don't have to -"

"Your phone number's the same as in real life, right? I'll text it to you."

"Wow." The shadow shakes its head. "And here you are, lecturing me about my delusions."

Makoto's gauntlet smashes into the table.

"What's your problem? She's someone I admire, so why shouldn't I have a picture to inspire me? If I was a boy, you wouldn't care if I pinned up my favorite baseball player! Why are you making such a big deal whether there's a girl on my phone? It's perfectly normal!"

It would be so easy to rant on and on, unloading rapid-fire shots; instead, Makoto goes for the kill. "You're every bit as bad as my real sister."

Shot fired, Makoto immediately shakes her head at the absurdity of it all: defending herself before a psychic ghost, a doll! "But what's it matter anyway? It's not like any of this is real."

Behind her, there's a chalkboard _creek_ as black fingernails scrape lines into the felt tabletop. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" Makoto's haughty act falls the minute the Shadow grabs her by the shoulders and spins her around.

"Stop with that bullshit, condescending attitude! _The 'real' world, my 'real' sister_. Look around you - this world is every bit as alive as the one you come from."

Makoto struggles but the shadow's fingers only dig in until she flinches. "Let go! You're only here because my sister became weak."

"Weak? That 'sister' of yours only got as far as she did because of me!"

The fight leaves Makoto's body. Her eyes widen. Is it just her imagination, or has the snarling shadow grown taller? Just a second ago, she swore she barely had to tilt her head to match eyes; now, the shadow looms over her like a growing storm, teeth bared and amber eyes sparking. Its lungs pant in the sharp, metallic rasps of an armored titan.

"What, did you think this was a one-way deal? That I'm some dirty secret your sister puked up and locked away in a closet? No, I'm here because that other Sae Niijima begged for someone to help her! The more I win, the stronger I become - the more that other Sae shares in my power. Her drive, her conviction? That's me, Makoto, and I've been with you two for a damn long time."

Growling, Makoto shrugs the gloved hands off her shoulders. "You teach her to ignore her principles, to seek victory at any cost."

"I show her how the deck's stacked against her. I teach her the way out of a crooked game! If it weren't for me, that other Sae would have a ring on her finger, a screaming baby yanking on her apron strings and you'd be shipped off to the cheapest boarding school your new brother-in-law could find. I'm not some faker you get to thumb your nose at. I'm your _other_ sister, Makoto Niijima."

"Yeah, well maybe one was enough."

They pause, breathing deeply from exertion. It's an awful feeling, this angry, coppery taste in her mouth that makes her want to spit and yet -

_It's exhilarating!_

As much as this Sae has trashed her, Makoto's stood her ground; trashed her right back. _In the real-_ She corrects herself. _In that other world, Sae's the one with all the power._ Sae is her legal guardian; she sets her curfew, dispenses her allowance; mandates her chores and responsibilities. Against the breadwinner providing for their lifestyle, Makoto has no room to object. _Here, we stand toe-to-toe._

The shadow grins at her. Makoto realizes she's grinning right back.

"Tomorrow night," it declares, flicking a finger at Makoto's forehead, "we're going to do something about that attitude of yours."

Makoto waves the fingers out of her face. "Is that so?"

"You bet your ass. I'm going to show you just what this world has to offer."

Makoto makes a show of considering while she looks for an avenue of payback. Smirking, she makes a small jump and snatches up the shadow's wide-brimmed hat. "Hey!"

The black hat flops over her eyes and suddenly Makoto's a little girl again, playing tug-of-war with sis for dad's policeman's cap. "Maybe I'm going to spend tomorrow night with my friends," she counters, giggling and dodging as the shadow chases her around the table.

"What, you're gonna doll yourself up and go after scruffy hair? Steal him back from lady latex?"

"Maybe I will."

Her defiance only sends the shadow grinning. "You can cut the bullshit." Makoto shrugs in ignorance so the shadow snaps its fingers, winks itself behind her shoulder to deliver a nasty little whisper.

"I know all about those books you're reading."

A chill down her spine freezes Makoto on the spot. It's just like with Akechi and Haru, a simple whisper leaves her stunned and disarmed and she curses herself for seizing up like this. Taking advantage of her stupor, the shadow plucks the too-big hat from Makoto's hair, returning the gambler's crown to its rightful head. "Isn't my little sister is just full of surprises!"

Just as Makoto feels tears forming, Bob clears his throat and inspects his pocket watch. "Madam, your schedule."

Sae's shadow groans and rolls its eyes so Bob serves up a further reminder, raising a metal bucket brimming with cash to the table. Makoto's clenches her nose. _Gross, it stinks like … raw fish?_ The smell mollifies her sister's shadow. It sighs in defeat.

"I guess we're done for tonight."

"You're kicking me out? No, I've still got chips, we've got a game to finish!"

"Honey, I'd love to, but –" she gestures to Bob and his rancid buckets. "Duty calls. Oh, the second combination number? It's two."

Another finger snap and the shadow vanishes with the bucket. Its voice calls out in afterthought: "Tomorrow night, little miss normal girl."

"Yeah... tomorrow," Makoto mutters, so drained as she slumps into a chair. She feels utterly defeated. Bob observes her haggard pose a moment before clearing the air with another cough.

"Would you care for some herbal tea, Miss Niijima? A milk coffee, perhaps?"

"No, it's fine." She can't even look at Bob and he's just a simple shadow. Absently, she thumbs over her phone screens, staring beyond the square grids to the striking brunette beneath. Togo-san looks away in disgust. _Pathetic…_

Bob's footfalls move alongside her shoulder. Glancing up, she finds yellow slit-eyes observing her phone screen from behind a metal mask. "Miss Togo seems like quite the accomplished shogi player."

"She's something all right," Makoto sighs. She startles as a gloved hand falls on her shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"My mistress handled that quite indelicately. On behalf of all this establishment, you have my heartfelt apology, Miss Niijima."

"I'm used to it," she shrugs. A sad laugh. "I guess even in this world, Sae has more important things to deal with than me. Hey, Bob?"

"Yes, Miss Niijima?"

"What was all that money for anyway?"

Beneath his mask, Bob's lantern eyes flicker nervously. But before Makoto can press him further, she gasps. A string of very un-Niijima-like vulgarities rip from her throat. She's on her feet in a heartbeat, making a mad dash for the doors. She's just remembered!

"The book!"

* * *

**Monday, October 31 - Evening**

Dressed for bed in fuzzy, pink pajamas and an even fuzzier robe, Haru Okumura scooches her bedside chair up to her windowsill garden, a rather unusually acquired book resting in her lap.

"Mako-chan still hasn't texted me back," she muses, checking once again at her _'hey, I have your book'_ message. "I hope everything's all right."

Taro-kun and the other succulents flutter in the night breeze, as though reaching over to pet and reassure her. Haru beams. "Thanks, everyone. But isn't this interesting: I never would have guessed Mako-chan was interested in cowboy stories."

_Well, lady cowboy stories,_ she muses. _Hmm, maybe … 'cow-girls'?_ The front jacket is all soft pastels and elegant calligraphy, illustrating two gentle young women in plaid shirts and wide-brimmed hats riding horseback. The redhead wears her hair long and wild; her partner's is a short and boyish blue. Seated atop two noble white mares, the maidens trot gracefully down a summer garden trail decorated with pink rose bushes and windswept flower petals. Both smile fondly as they avert their eyes. _Our Secret Summer: A White Lilly Ranch Novel._

Haru reads the back cover blurb. "Sayaka came to the ranch to escape a broken heart. Kyoko came to get away from her family troubles. Neither young girl dreamed they'd find true love instead."

_True love_ – two words that send Haru squealing like she's eating the sweetest of strawberry shortcake. "How cute!" she exclaims, flipping to page one and tucking in.

"Sayaka and Kyoko," Haru muses, cheeks as rosy as her vision. "I wonder which girl will get the boy!"


End file.
